Our oldest cat is a gray tabby named Sammie. His story is one that is retold all the time to everyone who comes in our house and looks even remotely interested in the cats. In 2004 my mother and brother ran a fireworks stand on a country road in Southeast Texas for the Fourth of July. Because someone had to be with the stand 24 hours, it had a little room with a small bed and AC unit. Mom stayed the first night and the next morning Kaitlyn and I drove down to see how she slept and if she needed anything. She told us that she didn't sleep all that great because a frog kept her up all night. A frog. Really? We stood there talking to her and my brother, and she interrupts everything and was like "There it IS!!" So I stopped and listened and immediately knew that was no frog. I glanced in the direction of the sound and much to my surprise, I saw a little gray head peeking through 2 foot tall weeds in the ditch across the road. It was a KITTEN! Now it needs to be mentioned that this fireworks stand was on a two lane country road with ALOT of quickly moving cars. I wanted to run to him but I'm a chicken and this chicken would not have made it safely across that road. I probably would have tripped and fell in the middle of it and became roadkill. So my brother stepped up. He dashed across the road, scooped him up and brought him back. My best guess is he was about 2 months old. He was scared, cold, wet, thin and hoarse. Who knows where he came from or how long he had been in that ditch. All I knew is that he was going to be safe, warm, well fed and completely loved the rest of his life. His cute little face and his attempt at a meow just broke my heart. 
He just turned 10 today (by our best guess) and he is as fiesty as ever. He is the epitome of a lap cat and will be in your lap before your bottom has a chance to sink into the cushions. He loves attention at all times. He isn't much of a player but he will engage with a string or laser occasionally. He is a talker..often times in the middle of the darn night. It's not uncommon to hear at 2 am someone yelling "Sammie, HUSH!". For years I didn't think he could purr. It was so soft you could barely hear it and I was sure his purr box was permanently damaged. None of his vets were ever concerned about it though. In the last year or two though, he has found his purr and it melts my heart every time. We've lost him twice. He got out once when we first moved to Killeen, Texas. I was devastated. My husband had came in and left the door open just a little too long and he darted out. Of course to make up for this, he brought me flowers. Little did he know the depth of my love for this cat. He learned after that and never got me flowers again. Poor Man. A few days later I was walking around calling Sammie's name and I heard that meow. My heart fluttered then stopped. I followed the sound and found him! He was a little battered. One of his claws were extended and bloody. I'm guessing he had a fight with a tree while trying to escape a mean predator, and the tree won. The vet fixed him up and his paw..and claw is perfectly fine today.
The second time he got out we were in Washington. We didn't have an air conditioner in Washington because you frankly don't need one. The Pacific Northwest is your AC. On warm days though we opened the windows. More than likely he was on the hunt for a bird but he managed to tear one of the screens and was out before we even knew. This time he was micro-chipped so I could only hope that a good soul would find him before a coyote did and would return him to us. In the meantime we put up lots of posters around the neighborhood just hoping someone would spot him. About three days later, we were sound asleep and heard a noise. My husband actually opened his mouth to say "Sammie, HUSH!" and we both jumped out of bed. We went to the kitchen and there he was. He came back in the window he had left out of and was standing there all proud...and hungry. That darn cat. Thankfully, he hasn't managed any Houdini escapes recently. We are extra vigilant. I can't imagine our family without him. He is perfect in every way and definitely has a piece of my heart.
The princess in the house is Zoe. She is a two year old white and black medium haired domestic cat. Her story isn't quite as exciting (or as long lol) but she is just getting started. We got her from an ad on a local yard sale type web page. Someone posted free kittens to good home. When I see things like that, I try not to even look because if I do I am going to end up that lady...with 25 cats. This time for some reason I did. We had been talking about getting another cat and the timing was perfect. LuCasey (my youngest child) and I drove up to Tacoma and went to visit the kittens. We fell in love with all of them. Every. Single. One. But we could only take one so LuCasey chose Zoe.
She was so tiny and only 5 weeks old. She was covered in fleas. We took her home and began to love her. Eventually we got rid of the fleas (being that little all you can really do is bathe them in mild soap, no get rid of flea stuff). We had no idea when we got her she was going to be so fluffy when she got older. Her mom was a short hair Calico so we assumed she would grow into her hair and it would be short like Sammie's. Nope. It's still kitten soft, but very thick and long.
At two years old she is just like a kid. Full of energy, very moody but very loving when she wants to be even if only for a few moments. Her favorite past time (other than playing with annoying balls that have bells in it, that I KEEP buying because I know she loves them despite the fact the bells drive me bonkers) is to choose her moment to cuddle, when I'm doing homework. It was cute ...at first. Now she has a radar. And it goes off every time I start doing homework. Every time.
But I always stop and oblige. She only stays ten minutes or so and then carries on her way. She loves to be held when you are walking or standing around. She only drinks water out of a dripping faucet or with ice in the bowl. She is also the epitome of scaredy cat when there is anyone in the house that is not the five of us. Anyone. She runs and hides and will stay that way until such time that the alien invasion has ended and she can once again assume her throne. We have lost her twice. It seems to be standard. Two times before you are officially a member of the household, you must go missing...only if you can be found. The first time, again we have zero idea how she managed to get out. She was there. And then she wasn't. She thankfully was also microchipped. We put up hundreds of flyers. I called shelters, pounds and vet clinics. When they get lost, its heart breaking. They are like children. They become reliant on you for their basic needs and it is my responsibility to protect them and care for them and I feel like I've let them down. I'm very very hard on myself. Luckily, a few days later I received a phone call from the Microchip company saying Zoe had been found and been taken to the local shelter. We went and picked her up as soon as possible.
The second time we lost her, she wasn't really lost. We lived in a section of on post housing that was being demolished to make way for new houses. Because of that, we had to move to a new house a few streets over. We moved ourselves with the help of our neighbors and did I mention she was a scaredy cat? Well throughout the move she would hide in everything she could squeeze into or break into. Tops of closets, in the couches, in cabinets. It was an episode of Where's Zoe everytime we took a breath. On the last night, we were getting ready to leave to go sleep in the new house for the first time and I told Kaitlyn (my oldest) to crate the cats. And she was gone. I mean, the only thing left in the house for her to hide in or behind was the appliances and that was quickly ruled out. It was ten o'clock at night, dark, cold and raining but I walked around in the pitch black (the streetlights had been turned off a week or two prior and we were one of the last to move out so there was almost zero lighting). I couldn't find her. It was the worst night ever. The girls cried. I cried. If she tried to come home, we wouldn't be there any longer. The next morning, we went back to the house. I brought the cleaning supplies inside and was planning to go look for her some more. When I opened the front door though, I heard kitty claws on the bare floor in the kitchen scrambling to get somewhere. I ran quickly and it's a good thing I did. I barely saw the end of her tail as she disappeared under one of the kitchen cabinets. Turns out there was a space just big enough for her to squeeze into that led to the areas between the cabinets. We tried everything to coax her out but she was terrified and the hole was just too small to reach through. I called maintenance and requested permission (or assistance) in breaking the cabinets apart. I mean, the house was being torn down anyways right? They weren't prompt enough in responding for us so Kaitlyn crawled into one of the cabinets, and pried the staples on the siding loose and was able to get her out. She has been on a tight metaphorical leash since.
Ok. That's two per cat. I sure hope we're done now. If you have pets, PLEASE GET THEM MICROCHIPPED. The shelter told us stories of found pets never reunited with their owners because they weren't microchipped and the owners were unknown. I have heard stories of pets being lost for years and being found and reunited because of the microchip. It's inexpensive and an investment you can't afford NOT to make. Anything can happen. Especially around holidays with fireworks and storms.
Sammie and Zoe share my heart (with my hubs and children of course :D). I spoil them and love them and cherish them everyday as much as I can. If you have a cat or dog, then you understand.They love each other too...most of the time. Don't be surprised if you don't see more of them on the blog. I'll try to keep the stories short though.
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